


Blue Monday

by Bofursunboundbraids



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Colorist/Divorced father of two!AU, Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9644828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofursunboundbraids/pseuds/Bofursunboundbraids
Summary: A brief moment in time for two strangers, from two different worlds. Sometimes, that's all it takes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at an illustrated story, something I've been sitting on since last summer. I never meant it to be more than the sum of the pictures (based on a true story, but more on that later), but as these things will, it grew a little and even wants to grow some more. 
> 
> For those concerned about the age-difference tag, Bilbo is a legal adult. No underage hanky panky here.

"A cancellation?"

"Mrs. Stanton's daughter went into labor this morning, so she won't be able to make it in for her one o'clock."

"Baby couldn't wait." Bilbo grinned as he glanced away from the lock of hair he was painting bright pink and out the picture window at a bright blue May sky. "It's a good day to be born, don't you think?"

"It'll do in a pinch." Lucy chuckled as she tapped her pen against the salon's scheduling book. "Do you want me to make that hour available or..."

"No!" Bilbo nearly shouted. Normally the ambitious young colorist, eager to build his client list, would've been more than happy to fill that hour with a walk-in or last minute appointment, but today he felt he could afford a break. He'd been on his feet since 8 o'clock that morning, attending to one client after another and he wouldn't be saying "good night" to his last until probably 8 that night. The thought of having a whole hour to himself, outside of the salon, on a beautiful late spring day, was really too good to pass up, "Please, Luce, can you keep it free?"

"Boy wonder is actually taking a lunch? It's about time!" Lucy drew a line through the hour's square in the appointment book, relieved. Bilbo had been working his ass off since he started at the salon, hell-bent on making an impression. And he had. Within the few months he'd been there, he had already started to make a name for himself, keeping some of the previous colorist's clients and picking up new ones through word of mouth. And while it was only a small salon in the 'burbs, it had a reputation as a hip joint that had launched more than one career on to more prestigious gigs. Lucy had a feeling that Bilbo was going to be picked up by a city salon before any of them knew it. "You need to check out the new taco truck. I'm tellin' you, sweetie...the barbacoa and chile relleno burrito is to d-i-e **DIE**  for!"

"That's the plan." Just then, Bilbo's stomach growled loud enough for the teen girl who's hair he was coloring to hear and she giggled. He apologized, explaining that all he'd gotten in him that morning was a blueberry and kale protein smoothie and a cup of coffee and he was feeling a little peckish.

"Don't stress it." The girl said, smiling under her cap of foil twists, "It was cute."

Bilbo chuckled as he freed a lock of bleached-blonde hair from a clip and painted it purple. From her reflection in the mirror he could see her cheeks were tinged bright pink as she plunged back into the dramatic trials and tribulations that were modern teen life.

The clock read five to one when the girl, absolutely ecstatic with her Instagram-perfect unicorn hair, handed Bilbo a small envelope containing a very generous tip. He finished cleaning up his station and prepped it for the routine color he had coming in at 2. After rubbing some badger balm into his hands, he grabbed his well-loved paperback copy of _**Interview with the Vampire**_ from his satchel and, after asking if he could pick-up anything for anyone, he headed out into the sunshine, ravenous for that burrito.

++++++++

Thorin drove through town, running through the mental check-list he'd been picking at all day.

Trader Joe's? Check.

Jiffy Lube? Check.

REI? Check.

The bank? Check.

Now, all that was left for him to do was to go home, finish packing, load the car, call his sister to confirm departure time, and then call his ex-wife to let her know when he'd be arriving to pick up the girls. He knew they were looking forward to this week-end camping trip with their cousins, and he was in serious need of some quality time with his widowed sister, submerged in the middle of a little soul-reviving nature. It had only been a couple of months since his divorce had become final and, while the process had been as amicable as could be expected, from beginning to end, it hadn't exactly been stress-free.

Thorin cranked his car's stereo. The imported eighties compilation CD he'd been listening to as he'd run his errands that day had been spendy, an indulgence at a time when lawyer's fees were being heaped on top of house payments and tuition bills. But, for what it had cost him in dollars had repaid him, ten-fold, in an escape from his troubles with fond memories of his youth, back before he had begun to take life so damned seriously. Blondie, Culture Club, Erasure, Bronski Beat, Frankie Goes to Hollywood...it was all there, each song cleverly mixed into the next to make one continuous jam. It was the person he had been, that true self that he had locked away for a chance at living a "normal life", that he was hoping his divorce would allow him to rediscover and one day, God's willing, reclaim.

The opening beats of New Order's **_Blue Monday_** made the interior of the car vibrate.

++++++++

[](http://imgur.com/t26Hd9b)

Leaning against the cinder block wall of the dry-cleaner, next-door to the salon, Bilbo took great delight in the heat of the sun-warmed bricks as it made its way into the stiff muscles of his shoulders and upper-back. He had taken Lucy's advice and gotten what turned out to be the best damn burrito he'd ever had. Stuffed full and nicely satiated, he quickly lost himself inside the decadent world of antebellum New Orleans with its preternatural predators and their mortal prey.

[](http://imgur.com/ntpvy8r)

Bilbo read, barely noticing the passing of time, until something pleasantly familiar stood out from the white noise of the passing traffic. It had started out as a _thud_ , a _boom_ , the heavy _thump_ of a kick-ass car stereo, before morphing into something he recognized, the opening strains of the song "Blue Monday" by the British techno-band New Order. The track was a bit before his time, but had been introduced to him by the older cousins he had grown-up emulating. He looked up from his book, curious as to who it was, in that more-or-less top-40 town, with such excellent taste in music.

[](http://imgur.com/El1TmOC)

[](http://imgur.com/Xw4ufAT)

+

For Thorin, everything seemed to happen at once. The light up ahead turned red just as he noticed the boy. With curls dyed a bright, crayola-blue, the kid was standing off to the right, right next to a salon Thorin had passed a million times before, reading a book. He was young, in that hard-to-tell, late-teens/early-twenties range, give or take either way, with cheeks pink and still rounded with baby fat, black-rimmed glasses today's hipsters were favoring, black tee, jeans, and red high-top sneakers. And he was absolutely...completely... _ridiculously_  adorable!

[](http://imgur.com/T5E430J)

After coming to a stop at the light, it took Thorin a good full second to realize that the boy had stopped reading and was looking _his_ way, smiling at _him_ , and he couldn't help but to smile right back.

[](http://imgur.com/YzMAtz3)

Deep in his gut, that little tickle he hadn't experienced in far too many years came springing back to life and it felt _incredible_!

[](http://imgur.com/Hi6Ne7O)

The boy waved and Thorin was quick to return it, the smile on his face, he could tell, growing wider and goofier, if that was possible.

[](http://imgur.com/JtoVthC)

[](http://imgur.com/zgivpI3)

Was the boy flirting with him? _Was he flirting back_? The adult part of Thorin's brain tried its damnedest to remind him that flirting with a boy who couldn't be much older than Rachel, his eldest, was every kind of wrong, but he'd become extremely tired and disillusioned with his adult brain over the last few years. He wasn't hurting anyone by flirting with this boy who was barely within shouting distance and who he'd probably never, ever, see again. No, he was going to allow himself to enjoy this brief moment in time as the object of this beautiful boy's admiring gaze. And, in return, he would admire the hell out of him right back.

[](http://imgur.com/lFVeEfk)

**HONK!**

At some point during this enchanting reverie, the light had turned back to green. And, that quickly, the day dream came to an end and Thorin was left, holding up traffic.

[](http://imgur.com/m5Cq1lp)

[](http://imgur.com/Dzpjp2K)

Pressing down on the gas pedal, he slowly pulled away, his eyes lingering on the blue-haired boy as long as was possible. He saw the boy's hand lower, slowly, reluctantly. And then he was gone, left where pretty young boys should be left, a lovely picture to store away and be pulled out when the need arose, but never anything more than that. Over the car's speakers, New Order gave way to Duran Duran and Thorin found himself back on planet earth. He reminded himself that he needed to call Dís as soon as he got home. He wasn't sure, yet, if he'd tell his sister about the boy. _Probably better to keep this to myself_ , he thought. She would only scold him.

++++++

Bilbo let his hand drop as he watched the gorgeous stranger drive away in the silver SUV with the killer sound-system. If there was anything he knew about himself, it was that he was a sucker for tall, dark, and handsome, the ideal masculine figure that he wasn't at only five foot six, pale with freckles, and near-sighted. The man had definitely satisfied two of the three requirements; a neatly trimmed black beard on a strong jaw, a profile that Bilbo would later describe, to Lucy's great amusement, as _majestic_ , and long, dark hair sprinkled with silver and pulled back in a pony tail. The tall part, Bilbo figured, from how the man had filled the driver's seat, was almost certain. Most of his friends told him he was merely looking for a replacement for the father he had lost when he was very young. No, he always told them, it was nothing like that. He knew, in his heart, what the man he would love for the rest of his life looked like, he only needed to find him. And that day, with the heat of the sun warming his face, still wearing the grin the man had put there, he was quite sure that he had gotten a glimpse of who his future lover was. And while Bilbo hated to see the man drive away, something deep in his soul was certain that he would see him again.

He was going to have to buy Mrs. Stanton's daughter a gift.

[](http://imgur.com/bmAkb3o)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Blue Monday** (1983)  
>  Performed By: New Order  
> Written By: Gillian Gilbert, Peter Hook, Stephen Morris, and Bernard Sumner
> 
> Did I say this is a true story? Well...o.k., so this is what happened:
> 
> Last April I was driving around town, running errands and listening to my favorite British import 80s compilation CD. On my way home, I noticed, standing off to the side, in front of a salon I pass all the time, this boy with bright blue curly hair, black glasses, jeans, red high-tops...the whole deal. My very first thought was, "I need to write something about this boy!" He was a modern!AU Bilbo in the flesh and he was RIGHT THERE! So, the light turns red and I come to a stop, right beside the salon. And yes, "Blue Monday" by New Order is thumping away on my stereo. While I'm thinking about what adventure I can set my blue-haired Bilbo on, I realize the boy is looking over at me. My first thought was that this adorable, blue-haired/black-clad child recognized the song (because all black-clad children know "Blue Monday") and was sending his appreciation my way. And I was of a mind to flirt with him, but doubt set in and I figured it was just that the stereo was too loud, so I turned it down a little. And then there was the whole having, at the very least, 20 years on him, and the last thing I want to be is a creeper. The light eventually turned green and I drove away, momentarily in love with the blue-haired boy that I never saw again. Since I had decided to write about him, I figured letting the scenario play out a little more ideally would be fun. And with pictures!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. There will be more.


	2. You Make Me Feel...Mighty Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://imgur.com/dtJ7q6H)   
> 
> 
> _The man didn't seem to take notice of his approach. Bilbo stood across the table from him for a couple of seconds, preparing to be disappointed._
> 
> _“Blue Monday?” He said as a question. The man slowly tore his eyes away from his tablet and looked up. “Oh my god.” Bilbo thought. There was no question._
> 
> _Thorin looked up at the young man standing by his table, smiling the happiest smile he’d seen on anyone in a long time, looking as if he’d just found something precious that had been lost. He looked familiar. Thorin’s heart stopped. No, it couldn't be…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start by thanking everyone for the comments and kudos! I was very pleasantly surprised by the reaction to chapter one. Chapter 2 is a bit longer, but there are no new tags.
> 
> I hope everyone's having a great summer!

**Tuesday morning in early June**

  
_When we get home darlin'_  
_And it's nice and dark_  
_And the music's in Vienna_  
_Still you're hot and you kiss me back and it_  
_Feels real good and I know you love me_  
_Like you should_

_Oh you make me feel mighty real_  
_You make me feel mighty real_

  
It was no use. There was no way he was going to get any work done. The numbers sat there on the spreadsheet, completely ignored, as Thorin watched the hunky bronzed Adonis of a barista, who was wearing the tightest, thinnest t-shirt he’d ever seen, dance his heart out behind the La Pavoni.

[ ](http://imgur.com/4oLDXkv)

The guy winked right at him.

Thorin grabbed his iced macchiato and took a sip, hoping to cool the blush that heated his face. All pretense of getting work done officially given up on, he closed Excel and opened the Frozen Frenzy Mania app his youngest had loaded on his iPad. He needed to give himself a couple minutes of bright, candy colors as he worked up the guts to go and slip the guy his business card. It had only recently sunk in that he was a single man, after almost twenty years of marriage, and he figured it was time he began to really broaden his associations.

A hot barista would be a good place to start.

  
+++

 

[ ](http://imgur.com/JOtfuNF)

  
Bilbo Baggins was madly in love with the day. As he walked down the city street, a Cocteau Twins ethereal sonic dream in his ears, he raised his face to the sky and breathed in the last of the cool, misty morning before it gave way to a brilliant blue heat of summer. It was his day off and he had no plans other than doing as many of the things he enjoyed as he could, and he would begin by stopping at his favorite café and indulging in a decadent blend of caffeine and sugar.

Pulling his earbuds out as he stepped through the door, he caught the last thumping beats of one classic gay disco anthem before it gave way to another. The café, all high ceilings and wide, open windows, smelling gloriously of ground roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries, was dotted with vibrant, perfectly quaffed humans, out enjoying the gorgeous weather in that warm, friendly space. Striped banners, the rainbow as well as the alternatives, added an extra splash of color that Bilbo never grew tired of.

“Hey, Chad!” He greeted the barista, who was boogieing down while pulling a couple shots. Chad gave him a blindingly white smile and a “Whassup, B?” while never missing a beat. Bilbo ordered his usual from the girl at the register, complimenting her on her sharp asymmetrical, double tapered cut. Chad let her know Bilbo was his “hair dude”, earning him a discount on his order and a request for a business card. Bilbo tipped double.

As he waited, looking around, he saw some familiar faces, acquaintances, including one with whom he’d had a rather memorable fling a couple years back. He caught the man’s eye, who smiled and waved. Bilbo could see the ring on his hand. He’d recently attended the man’s wedding to the gorgeous thing sitting on the other side of the table. He waved back, not being able to help the little twinge of jealousy that was aimed at both of them.

Resuming his look about the room, he noticed someone, sitting off to the side. The man was staring intently at a tablet, dark, wavy hair pulled back from his bearded face. There was something familiar about him…

“Bilbo! Come n’ get it, babe!” Chad shouted.

“Thanks, angel.” Bilbo gave Chad an air-kiss as he collected his drink. With a bagged scone already in his other hand, he moved closer to the dark-haired man, who wore a thick, navy blue cable-knit cardigan over a madras shirt to ward off the lingering, late morning chill. His brain tried to convince him there was no way the man could be who he wanted him to be. After all, he was wearing glasses, unlike the SUV-driving dream man, but the hair, the beard…that nose.

The man didn't seem to take notice of his approach. Bilbo stood across the table from him for a couple of seconds, preparing to be disappointed.

“Blue Monday?” He said as a question. The man slowly tore his eyes away from his tablet and looked up. “ _Oh my god_.” Bilbo thought. There was no question.

Thorin looked up at the young man standing by his table, smiling the happiest smile he’d seen on anyone in a long time, looking as if he’d just found something precious that had been lost. He looked familiar. Thorin’s heart stopped. No, it couldn't be…

“Excuse me?”

“Blue Monday.” Bilbo repeated as a statement, his heart beating like crazy in his chest. “About a month ago. Stop light at Hall and Allen. You were in a silver SUV, and you were listening to Blue Monday, all cranked up.”

“ _Oh my god_.” Thorin thought, his heart restarting at a hundred miles an hour. It was him! The beautiful blue-haired boy who he’d seen standing on the street, reading, smiling at him, waving. The boy he’d only seen for a moment yet dreamed about for days afterwards, longingly, almost passionately, until he’d shamed himself enough to tuck him away with the hope that he’d forget all about him. But there he was, in the flesh! The same sweet, round face. The same black-rimmed glasses. The hair wasn't blue anymore, but a crayon box of bright colors and the black t-shirt had been replaced by a pale yellow one topped with a green hoodie decorated with small, round buttons of smiling flowers. Jeans and high tops were now a baggy pair of cotton, drawstring pants and huaraches, visible toes painted pink. And he was no longer at a safe distance. Thorin could've touched him if he reached his hand out. Laying his tablet down, all thought of destroying ice cream bars forgotten, he pulled off his reading glasses.

“Yeah. Yeah! That was me and you’re…wow!” He stood up and threw out his hand. “Thorin Durin.”

Bilbo set his drink and scone on the table, thrilled by the man’s memory of him, and vigorously shook the large, warm hand. “Bilbo Baggins. It’s nice to finally meet you, Thorin Durin. Thorin…what a gorgeous name. Fits you.”

Thorin found himself blushing furiously, like a school kid being acknowledged by his first crush. He chuckled, his nerves twanging. “Oh…thank you. That’s, um…you’re sweet. Would you like to join me?”

(“ _Dear god_ ,” he thought, “ _I shouldn't be doing this_.”)

“I would love to.” Bilbo responded, looking Thorin right in the eye, and he took a chair at the small table.

“Do you come here often?” Thorin asked, cringing as the words came out of his mouth. Of all the cheese ball lines...

“Whenever I’m in the neighborhood, which isn't as often as I’d like. Work keeps me pretty busy. How about you? I’ve never seen you here. I know I’d remember you if I had.” He took his first sip of his drink, a dark chocolate and lavender iced mocha. He let it fill his mouth as his once-upon-a-dream man’s voice, deep and delicious, resonated inside him, making him tingle.

Thorin’s blush renewed its efforts. “This is my first time. I’ve been meaning to check it out.”

“Oh yeah?” Bilbo’s nose scrunched up a little when he smiled and Thorin swore to himself, thinking it the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “Are you new in town?”

Thorin held up his left hand, where the very last hint of the suntan line left by his wedding ring was all but a memory. “No. Just newly divorced.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Bilbo said, his feelings genuine. “Living the hetero dream didn't quite pan out?”

Thorin chuckled. “Literally. I was married to a woman.”

“Oh.” Bilbo blanched. Open mouth. Insert foot. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean…”

“Forget about it. Anyway, I think it's great you assumed it was a man.”

“We've come a long way, baby.” Bilbo took a drag off an imaginary cigarette, making Thorin laugh. “So, I guess the next question is, are you straight?”

Thorin shook his head, his gaze meeting the boy’s. “No. I’m not.”

“So, not just newly divorced, but newly out.” Bilbo said, quietly.

“Very newly. The desire was there.” Thorin shook his head at the memories of his younger, deeply denying self. “It was always there, but I fought it. I couldn't be gay. Not in my family. Then I met Lauren and fell in love and we had kids and I thought that part of me was gone for good. But…here I am.”

“Well. if you haven't heard it yet,” Bilbo raised his cup. “I’d like to be the first to welcome you to the neighborhood.” Thorin lifted his and they clinked the sweaty plastic containers together.

“Thank you. It’s…um…it's been a long time coming. Very long time.” Being this close to the boy, Thorin was able to notice, after a month of daydreams, of imagined caresses and kisses based on only a single glance, that the boy had green eyes and a light dusting of freckles on his nose and the apples of his cheeks. He decided that it was an interesting sort of torture, sitting across from a fantasy in the flesh. And, as unwise as he knew it was, it was a torture that he would gladly weather as long as he possibly could.

“You’re a dad.” Bilbo popped a piece of scone in his mouth, surprised by how much he loved the idea that this man was a father.

“Yes I am,” Thorin couldn't help puffing up whenever he talked about his babies. “We've got two amazing girls. Rachel’s 16 and Edda’s going to turn 11 next month.”

“It must've been hard on them, mom and dad splitting up.”

Thorin fiddled with the straw in his cup, nodding, surprised he felt no qualms about opening up about his divorce to someone he barely knew. “Yeah. They had no idea anything like that could happen in our family. Hell, I didn't even see it coming, until it did. It was tough on them, but their mom and I tried to keep it as civil as possible. There was a lot of hurt, and it was all my fault. That was the hardest part. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt the people I love. But we’re making it through.”

“And things are good now?”

“They are. As good as can be expected. I still love Lauren…”

“Thorin and Lauren.” Bilbo couldn't help interrupting, rhyming the names together.

Thorin chuckled. “Would you believe, we have friends who actually used that as an argument that we should stay together.”

“I’m sure you do. Straight people say the darndest things.”

“Yeah, they do. They really do. Anyway, we started out as friends, which is why I think we worked for as long as we did. We try to spend time together, to make the transition easier for the girls. Rickie was angry. She refused to speak to me for a couple of months after I moved out, but she’s beginning to understand why it happened. Eddie still wants know why, if mom and dad still get along, why dad just can't keep living with them.” Breathing in through his nose, he made an audible sniffle.

Bilbo dug into his satchel and pulled out a linen handkerchief, handing it to the sad man on the other side of the table, feeling the corners of his own eyes prickle. “She misses her daddy.”

Thorin took the handkerchief, somehow not surprised that the boy carried the old-fashioned cloth kind with him. He dabbed his moistened eyes and wiped his nose before it got a chance to run away. “Thanks for this. I don't usually start sobbing in front of strangers. What, are you a therapist or something?”

“No, I’m a hairstylist. Emotions are a healthy thing. More men should have them, I think. I mean, isn't that the great part about being gay? Besides the sex, of course.”

“What’s that?” Thorin asked, holding the handkerchief, happy to have something of Bilbo’s in his possession. It was the next best thing to actually touching him.

“Sissies are allowed to cry. Sorry. Bad joke. And I'm sorry for asking so many questions. Sometimes I get too nosey for my own good. It’s just,” Bilbo picked up his cup, the whipped cream in the domed cap starting to melt into the coffee, “now that I’ve found you, I want to know you.” He slid the straw between his lips and pulled the sweet and slightly flowery drink into his mouth, his eyes locked on Thorin’s.

Thorin watched Bilbo, his body thrumming electrically, responding to the signals being sent his way. There was no question in his mind that the boy…young man…much younger man…was flirting with him. Maybe even wanted him. Which made Thorin’s desire for him that much more of a problem.

“What about you?” He asked, stuffing the snotty bit of cloth in his jeans pocket, ignoring the voice that was telling him to end this conversation and walk away.

“What about me what?” Bilbo teased, coyly.

“All I know is you’re a curious, busy hairstylist.”

“Mmmm hmmmm,” Bilbo nodded, his mouth full of scone, “Co-lo-wist.”

Thorin looked confused. “A what-ist?”

“A colorist.” Bilbo said after washing the pastry down with some coffee. “I color hair. Well, not just that. I also cut and style and all of that, but my specialty is color.”

“Oh…the salon there, where I saw you, you work there?”

“I do. A lot.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it! I get paid decently to help people be who they want to be. At least on the outside. It’s a lot of fun. How about you? What do you do?”

“I own a construction company.”

“You build things?”

“Yeah. Actually it's more overseeing things being built. Lots of number crunching, pencil pushing, meetings. I did the actual construction work when I was younger.”

“Are we talking hard hat, tool belt, tight jeans construction worker?”

Thorin laughed out loud, nodding. “Tank top, aviator glasses, mustache…the whole nine. Could've been a member of the Village People. Lauren _loved_ it.”

“Macho man, huh?” It was the hottest image Bilbo had had in his mind since first seeing Thorin on the street. “I'm sorry I missed that.”

“You were probably in kindergarten at the time. I gotta ask, how old are you, anyway?

Bilbo laid his hand daintily on his chest. “It's not polite to ask a lady her age.”

Thorin gave him a look.

Sitting up straight, Bilbo folded his arms across his chest, stating as a matter-of-fact, “I'm old enough to vote, drink, serve in the military, and fuck. Will that do?”

Thorin dropped his eyes to the table, embarrassed, and picked up the paper wrapper from his straw and crushed it between his fingers. “I'm sorry. It's just…when you get to be my age, you start to become conscious of these sorts of things.”

Bilbo dropped his arms, and relaxed in his chair. “How old are you?” He asked, loving the crinkles that radiated out from the corner of Thorin’s eyes and the streaks of silver in his long hair, pulled back in a messy ponytail.

“42.” _When did that happen_? Thorin asked himself, not getting an answer.

Gasping dramatically, Bilbo threw himself back in his chair, his hand on his throat. “That's positively ancient!”

“See!” Thorin threw his hands up in the air. “That's what I'm talking about, here!”

Bilbo shut his eyes and hung his head for a second, shaking it, before raising it again to look at Thorin, laughter written all over his face. “I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. And to be perfectly honest, I don't care. I really don't care how old you are. Or how old I am. I don't think it really matters, _at all_ , so can we leave that part out? Let's just be two adult, human males who, I believe, and please correct me if I'm wrong, are very interested in one another.”

Thorin looked at the pretty young man sitting across from him; multi-colored curls, babyfat-filled cheeks, not a line anywhere, his whole life laid out before him. Just starting out. And despite all the warning bells going off inside him, he _wanted_ him. Not just physically. I mean yes, there was that, _definitely_ that, but Thorin wanted to know who this boy was. He wanted to see inside his world. And he wanted to introduce him to his. “You're not wrong.” He said, loving the soft tap of a foot against his leg.

 

[ ](http://imgur.com/FwqXdcd)

 

“Good.” Bilbo stroked Thorin’s rock-solid calf with his foot, eliciting the sexiest little smile, “Where were we?”

“I, um,” Thorin had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat that mirrored the one was trying to develop in his jeans. “I think we were…( _deep breath_ )… talking about work.”

“That’s right,” Bilbo pulled his foot away, taking pity on the poor flustered man. Better not to come on too strong, too soon. “So, no work for you today?”

“Not really.” Thorin was disappointed and relieved the foot was gone. “I came here thinking I could get some paperwork out of the way but dancing boy over there proved too much of a distraction.”

Bilbo turned and looked back toward Chad who was still shaking his moneymaker, singing along with Cher. _Of course Thorin would take notice of him_ , Bilbo thought, a snag of concern in his gut. Everyone, sooner or later, was distracted by Chad.

“That’s Chad. He is one of the finer pieces they have on display here.”

“Oh!” Thorin’s eyebrows flew up. “Do you ‘ _know_ ’ him?” He asked, giving know the biblical meaning with air quotes.

Bilbo caught his meaning and giggled at the implication. “I do…not like _that_ …but I do know him. He’s a client. Highlights and a trim every 6 weeks. We've never dated or…anything. He’s not really my type. He’s sweet, but there’s not a whole lot going on up here.” He tapped his temple.

“He’s not mine either.” Thorin blurted, wondering now what he ever saw in the tanned slice of beefcake.

“Liar.” Bilbo teased, delivering another soft tap to Thorin’s leg. “He’s everyone’s type.”

“What is _your_ type?” Thorin asked, sliding his leg out so Bilbo’s foot couldn't help but rest against it.

Bilbo smiled. “Would you be interested in spending an afternoon with me?”

“Like a date?” Thorin asked, a stupid grin on his face, suddenly feeling every bit the gawky teenager he’d thought he'd left behind, decades ago. He should NOT be doing this…

“Not a date.” Bilbo leaned forward and laid a hand on top of one of Thorin’s, sorry to see that gorgeous smile on his face melt. “Not yet. Just an outing with two new friends getting to know one another. No pressure. No expectations.”  
  
Thorin flipped his hand so the fleshy pads of their palms could rest against one another. “I would love to spend an afternoon getting to know you, Bilbo Baggins.” The tips of his fingers tickled the inside of Bilbo’s wrist.

“Good!” Bilbo sucked in a big breath of air as he patted Thorin’s hand. Then he leaned over and pulled up his satchel, an old army number that had belonged to a great uncle who had served in Vietnam, onto his lap. Sticking his hand into a front pocket, he pulled out a small, thin silver case, his name engraved on the lid. He opened it. “Here’s my card. You can reach my cell using the number on the back.”

Thorin took the card, a hair salon cliché of pink, black, and gold, with Bilbo’s name in the center, “Colorist” below. Flipping the card over he saw the number, in green ink, written in a neat, rounded hand over lines for filling in appointment dates and times. Opening the cover on his tablet, he pulled out one of his own and handed it across the table. “You can reach me at the second number.”

“Mobile?” Bilbo asked.

“That’s the one.” Thorin watched Bilbo slide the card into his case and put the case back in his satchel. Then, after looking at his wristwatch, he slung the strap over his head.

“Well, Thorin Durin, General Contractor, I’m afraid the day is moving along, and there are a few things I promised myself, as long as the sun was shining.”

“What kinds of thing?” Thorin’s heart twinged in his chest. He didn't want to see Bilbo leave.

Bilbo hugged his bag. “I’m going to go hit all the used bookstores on Taylor Street. I’ve been on an Oscar Wilde kick lately, and I’ve got some extra pennies in my pocket, so I’m going to treat myself to some new old books. And maybe some vinyl. What about you? Any plans that don't involve spreadsheets?”

Thorin looked at his watch. It was 11:45. “I just need to stop by the market and straighten up my place before I pick the girls up from school at 3. It’s their weekly dinner at dad’s.”

“Lucky girls. They must look forward to it.”

“They seem to. Although, I think I'm the lucky one.”

Bilbo stood, loathe to leave, but eager to keep the date he'd made with himself. Thorin followed, coming to his feet, leaving Bilbo in a near swoon. His eyes tracked the man’s height, from the toes of his caramel leather topsiders to eyes as brilliantly blue as the early summer sky that was beckoning. Thorin was what? Six foot two? Three?

He was perfect.

“Well, my new friend,” Bilbo said, holding out his hand, wanting just one more touch, “it’s a beautiful day. You should go out and be beautiful in it. Just do me a favor, and don't go and fall in love while you're out there. I call dibs.”

Thorin blushed, Bilbo’s hand in his, a thumb gently caressing, caused lightening strikes to go off. He had moved past the curious strain of infatuation he had held for this man for the past month and was now, with his name on his tongue, and despite the age difference, officially smitten. “I don't think you have to worry about that.”

Bilbo smiled brilliantly and began heading towards the door. “Good!” He called out. “And don't forget, you owe me a hankie!”

Thorin waved and watched Bilbo rejoin the world, a brilliant bloom adding color to a world in desperate need of it. Sitting back down, he flipped open the cover of his tablet, scared for a moment that the card had vanished and the man he’d just met had been a figment of his imagination. But no, it was there, along with the number, written in ink a couple of shades darker than Bilbo’s eyes. He knew he would have the girls that night until 7, the time they needed to be back home (their home, no longer his), which meant he’d be back in his home, a stress relieving glass of wine and cigarette in hand, by 7:20. He hoped 7:30 would be a good time to call.

Flipping the cover closed, he slipped his tablet into the padded pocket of the leather laptop bag Lauren had given him their last Chrismukkah together. Walking his collection of used napkins and empty cup to the trash, Thorin couldn't help taking one last look at Chad, who was fully engaged in helping the Pointer Sisters jump for some love. Looking up from pouring a foam heart on a latte, the energetic barista flashed Thorin a dorky, too-white smile, and gave him a thumbs up. Thorin waved back before heading out the door.

[](http://imgur.com/AI6FnAH)

Yeah…Chad wasn't his type at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Song Credits:**  
> [You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)](https://youtu.be/Ifr13Upytb4), 1978  
>  written by: James Wirrick, Sylvester
> 
> "You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)" is one of "Disco Queen" Sylvester's biggest hits. Sylvester was a prominent fixture of the San Francisco gay scene and was an anti-HIV/AIDS activist. He died from complications related to the AIDS virus in 1988. His song was featured in both the documentary "The Life and Times of Harvey Milk" and the 2008 film, "Milk".
> 
> Interesting side note: New Order's "Blue Monday" was, in part, influenced by "You Make Me Feel".
> 
> On a soon to be sunny early June day, Bilbo leaves the house with the Cocteau Twins, a dream (or ambient) pop band that was active from 1979 to 1997, on shuffle. ["Pitch the Baby"](https://youtu.be/oaNstV12cl8) is playing when he arrives at the café. Cocteau Twins does have some relevance when it comes to The Lord of the Rings; Lead vocalist Elizabeth Fraser was used in the LotR score as the singing voice of the elves in Lothlorien. It's Elizabeth we hear in the scene where Haldir is killed.
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!!


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